by Ivan B
Danielle had run out of questions, so Peter felt he could start.
“I’m serious when I say I love your mum, Danielle. I didn’t come to Felburgh looking for a wife and I haven’t had a girlfriend for nearly twenty years, but your mum has bowled me over. I know it won’t be easy suddenly having me around, but I will do my best. However, there is one problem you probably haven’t thought of.”
“What’s that?” said Danielle.
“You would become the vicar’s daughter”
“Oh shit” she said, then held her hand up to her face and said “Sorry.”
“Still want me to marry your mum”
Danielle replied without any hesitation, “Yes”
Louise suddenly looked at Peter.
“Can I ask you an embarrassing question?” she asked.
“You can, but you might not get an answer.”
She shot a glance at Danielle; “I’ve heard some rumours.”
Before she could finish Danielle snapped.
“I told you my mum wouldn’t hang about with a pervert.”
Peter sighed.
“I know about the rumours, and so does Danielle’s mum; next time you see her tell her that I said it’s OK for you to hear about the burning bush and it doesn’t have to be confidential.”
“You mean that bush you had in your garden sending up smoke signals?”
“That’s it.”
Danielle said, “We’d better go.”
“Hang on,” said Peter, “I’ve got another question, what’s your mother’s favourite stone”.
“Ruby” said Danielle without hesitation, “she’s got this old ruby bracelet of her mothers and treasures it like it’s the lost gold of Atlantis.”
“If I call by tomorrow, after school, when your mum is at her shop can I borrow it for an hour?”
Danielle wiggled her eyebrows.
“Mum will kill me if she finds out, but yes”.
“See you tomorrow then.”
So they got up to go. As she reached the front door she turned to Peter.
“Do you think God’s got a sense of humor?” she asked.
“Certainly”, said Peter, “Read the book of Esther. Why do you ask?”
She laughed and giggled at the same time.
“I’ve been praying that God would find my mum a nice partner, one that would take care of her and sweep her off of her feet. I didn’t expect him to send a vicar!” And with that they scurried up the drive.
Peter closed the door, found Aquinas and took him for a walk. As usual Peter held a one-sided conversation with him as the strolled and Aquinas lollopped through the woods.
“Have to get used to Danielle.”
“Have to do something about buying a bed,” and so on.
After about an hour they returned to the Rectory and Peter settled at his computer for a second time. The doorbell rang almost instantly. Peter went to answer it and found the Major on his doorstep. Something in the Major’s body language told Peter that this was not a mission of interrogation, but something else. He looked like a man about to face a court marshal when he already knew the verdict.
“Come in,” said Peter, but the Major did not move.
“I’d rather you called you’re dog off first” he said.
Peter looked round; Aquinas was standing about three feet behind him with all his hackles up and his teeth bared.
“OK Aquinas, Friend” said Peter.
Aquinas looked doubtful.
“Friend” said Peter firmly.
Aquinas got the message, went to the foot of the stairs and sat down, but his eyes did not leave the Major. The Major came in and sat in the sitting room. Peter did not say anything. Finally the Major cleared his throat with the usual harrumph sound.
“I came to give you my apology” he said. “I was totally out of line on Saturday” he handed Peter an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my resignation; I don’t see how you could work with me after this.”
A week ago Peter might have run around the room whooping for joy, but not this way and not over his personal life. Peter handed the letter back to the Major.
“I can’t accept this George” he said, “you’ve been gracious enough to apologize and we all make mistakes.”
“But they don’t usually go barging in like a bull in a china shop. They don’t elicit the support of other members of the church council and they don’t cast aspersions on someone’s character without knowing all the facts.”
“I mean it” said Peter. “I know that we have had our differences, but I think you have always acted from the best of intentions, even if I think they were misplaced.”
The major went quiet and looked at the floor and spoke somberly.
“When I got home Bessie was out. She came in about an hour later and called me a stupid old fart. She said that we were going out and took me down to Jo’s massage parlour. On the way she talked about her visit to see Jo.”
The major looked up at Peter.
“Do you know that I don’t think she has ever gone behind my back before.”
He continued.
“Just about everything I said about Jo was wrong. I thought I was right and that I held the moral high ground, but I was wrong, totally wrong. I acted like a second lieutenant on his first day out.”
He paused for a moment.
“It’s made me reflect on my other certainties. If could be so wrong about Jo I can’t be certain that I’ve been right about anything else. How can I be church warden if I am in two minds; how can I be churchwarden when I have caused you so much personal offence?”
Peter went and sat next to the Major on the settee.
“I’d rather we worked together through uncertainties than argue about what we think are certainties.”
Again Peter offered the Major the envelope back, this time he took it. Peter and the Major talked for about an hour and spent some time together in prayer. Then he left, shaking Peter’s hand on the doorstep.
Aquinas came and sat beside Peter, his eyes did not leave the Major until he was out of sight.
“Friend I think, old boy,” said Peter patting him on the head. “Friend, I think.”
Chapter 17
The Course of True Love...
Monday proved a busy day for Peter. First of all it was the last Monday meeting before Charmian became a Priest and they planned her first presidency at communion carefully. Peter insisted that it was to be at the main morning service, not tucked away at the eight o’ clock. This meant a degree of extra planning. They also discussed the school’s course Charmian was being offered. She left at about eleven o’ clock to go straight to her pre-priesting retreat; Peter would not see her again until the ordination service at the Cathedral. Peter then rang Sam who had agreed to organize a coach on Saturday to take members of the congregation to the Cathedral to support Charmian. All was well and the fifty-four seat coach was already fully booked. Peter then checked with Harriet who was arranging a buffet lunch on the Sunday. The lunch was a surprise for Charmian from the church; she thought she was going to have a quiet meal with Marjorie and Peter. Peter also rang the Bishop to invite him to the lunch; he didn’t make any promises and said that he also had seven other deacon’s becoming priests, but he didn’t say no. Peter then tried to ring Jasper, but was informed by his ansaphone that he was unavailable for the week. Peter was just thinking about an early lunch when the phone rang; it was Damian. Peter asked him about Kimberley and he said she was doing fine and progressing at a faster rate than the hospital thought possible. He was also over the moon about the warden’s house. “I know it’s only got two bedrooms and a box-room, but it is detached and has a proper fire-place in the lounge. And I can’t believe that the estate is going to re-fit the kitchen and bathroom.”
“Is there a garden?” asked Peter.
“No. The estate maintains the grounds.”
Damian paused, and then said, “I want to ask you t
wo favours.”
“Ask away,” replied Peter.
“First of all, I’ve looked at our common license. It’s valid for three months and runs out on Thursday. Could you marry us on Wednesday evening?”
Peter replied, “Yes and No. I can’t marry you after 6pm – that’s the law – so the service would have to start by 5pm. And I would want to talk to both of you beforehand.”
“This lunchtime?”
“When’s lunchtime?”
“One o’clock. Could you come to her parents?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
Damian asked, somewhat hesitantly.
“And would you give me a reference.”
Peter was taken aback.
“What for?”
“Nursing.”
Peter could not have been more surprised.
“Nursing?”
“Yes. When Kimberley was ill I had plenty of time to look around. I like my job on the estate, but it is a dead end job; I’m an, estate hand now and I’ll be an estate hand in twenty years if I stay there; I might make senior estate hand in thirty years, but that depends on someone else retiring. I did think about nursing when I left school, but my mates laughed and I chickened out. I’ve got enough GCSE’s and the nursing school says they will take me this September, but I need a character witness.”
“Then of course I will.”
“Great,” said Damian, “see you in half an hour.”
When Peter got to Kimberley’s parent’s house she was indeed looking much better. Her bandages had been replaced by a white skull cap that she had covered with a red headscarf. Peter had deliberately arrived early to ask her how she was.
“Making progress. I’m not falling asleep at the drop of a hat anymore, but I still can’t bend over to pick items off the floor, I go all wobbly and fall over. But my head doesn’t hurt too much, just sort of aches.”
Peter asked gently.
“Are you up to being married?”
“I promise I won’t be sick or faint.”
“Do you want to be married? You do not have to be married this week just because you’re license runs out, you can always get another one.”
Kimberley almost nodded her head, but stopped herself.
“This time I do want to be married, and especially to Damian.”
“It’s not just a response to you falling over and Damian sitting beside you?”
“No, we want to be together and we want to marry and now is the right time.”
Peter reached over and squeezed her hand.
“Then I am very happy for you.”
Kimberley looked Peter straight in the face.
“Father, can I ask you something?”
Peter nodded.
“I don’t remember a thing about my accident and Mr. Patel says that I’m not to worry about it;” she paused, “but you were there first. Did I drop Sarah? Is that what made her cry?”
Peter shook his head.
“No, Sarah was in her cot and you were in the main room.”
Kimberley relaxed.
“No-one will talk about it except to say that you called the ambulance, and I was worried that I might have damaged Sarah.”
Peter said gently.
“No-one is talking about it because Mr. Patel told them not to; they are not keeping quiet because they’re trying to cover up the fact that you hurt Sarah. They are just anxious not to push where Mr. Patel says they should not go.”
Kimberley leant back in her chair.
“You don’t know what a relief that is Father.”
Damian arrived a few minutes later and they quickly went through the wedding service. There was to be no music, Kimberley did not think she could cope with too loud a noise. However, Tracy was going to sing to the congregation while they were signing the register. Peter took the opportunity to ask Damian a question that had been lurking in his mind for some time.
“What about your parents Damian, will they be coming?”
Damian looked out of the window.
“No.”
Peter kept quiet and eventually Kimberley said gently.
“They’re not alive Father. They died some time ago.”
Peter felt a fool and muttered an apology. Damian turned round.
“That’s because I don’t like talking about it.” There was a poignant silence. “But I have talked to Kimberley, and that will do for now.”
Peter left, somehow confident that these two, though dreadfully young by Peter’s standards, would have a long and stable marriage.
Peter arrived back at the vicarage to find the Mothers and Toddlers in progress and the records clerk Jennifer Smith waiting in his hall. She jumped to her feet as he entered and waved a piece of paper. “I’ve got permission from the Jefferson family to tidy up Tomas’ grave.”
Peter was amazed; when he’d said that she needed the relative’s permission he thought he was setting her an impossible task.
“How did you track them down?”
“Easy peasy! Tomas and Emma, had no children, but Tomas had one brother called Jeremiah who died in 1922, so he inherited all the family rights. He had a son, who had a daughter, who gave me permission.”
Peter tried a different track.
“What about the council?”
She fished another piece of paper out of her file.
“Their happy if the Jefferson family is happy.”
Her face fell slightly.
“But I can only tidy up the grave and clean the headstones, I can’t excavate.”
Peter felt relieved.
“So when are you starting?”
“Now, but I felt I ought to tell you first.”
“Thanks for that. You may like to know that there is tap in the graveyard near the hawthorn hedge.”
“Thanks.”
As she walked out Peter said, somewhat mischievously.
“I hope you find your mysterious headstone.”
She grinned.
“I’m not holding my breath, but I am hopeful.”
Peter then had time for a quick snack before driving down to Jo’s flat and picking the ruby bracelet up from Danielle. She handed him an envelope and said, in a conspiratorial fashion, “here’s the bracelet and I’ve also included a ring that I know fits the left finger of her right hand. She never wears it much, but I know it fits.”
Peter grinned like a schoolboy, “Thanks, good thinking bat-woman.”
Danielle glanced up the street, “Mum gets home just before six, I need that bracelet back before then or I’m dead meat.”
Peter laughed, “You’ll get it back long before then.”
He then drove to Felixstowe where he knew that just by chance one of the jewelers was having a ‘ruby week’. Peter not only found an engagement ring, but three other pieces of jewelry that matched the bracelet so closely they could have been made together. Peter got back to Felburgh at five-thirty and dropped off the bracelet and ring back to Danielle.
“Cutting it fine,” she said.
Peter gave her his thanks and drove away before Jo appeared. At least he thought he did. Peter then went home and sat in his study. Before he could ask Jo to marry him he had to make a phone call, and he was not looking forward to it. In the end he picked up the phone and dialed Jane’s number.
She answered immediately and was obviously eating. Peter opened with, “sorry to disturb your meal Jane, but I need to talk to you.”
“Is it urgent? I’m off out in ten minutes.”
“Not urgent, but I’d like to get it over with.”
“Oh. That difficult is it?”
“Yes.”
“I think I know what you are going to say, but say it anyway.”
Peter paused to gather his words.
“When we arrived here we promised each other never to tell anyone about our marriage unless we intended to marry again. I think I may have reached that point.”
“Jo?”
Peter was
amazed.
“Yes Jo, how did you know?”
“Female intuition.”
Peter laughed.
“Your intuitions’ not that good.”
She laughed, a sort of tinkling waterfall sound that Peter knew so well.
“Jasper told me he thought you were getting fond of someone and last week I saw you and Jo hand in hand on the prom.”
Peter heard her put the crockery in the sink.
“Actually Peter I’m glad you phoned, because sooner or later I would have had to phone you, I have a man-friend who I think will soon pop the question; he needs to know to.”
Peter was quite taken aback.
“Do I know him?”
“You should, he’s our joint patron.”
Peter could not believe his ears.
“You mean Tom?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. It was you who told him I liked bird watching. He asked me one day if I’d seen the Black Swan that had wandered into Dunwich by mistake and it all sort of went from there.”
“Are you happy?”
“I don’t want to be rude Peter, but yes I am happy. Happier than I think I have ever been. And you?”
“Suffering from shell-shock. Jo sort of crept into my heart and now I can’t think of life without her.”
They talked for another couple of minutes and then Jane rang off. Peter sat back in his chair, perhaps phoning Jane had been the easy part; telling Jo might be the hard part.
Peter drank some tea and then phoned Jo. They were not meeting that evening as Jo had to go to some sort of parent’s evening at the school, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t talk for a while. They spent about half an hour on the phone catching up on each other’s day. About twenty minutes in to the conversation Jo paused to say goodbye to Danielle as she was going round to Louise’s. When she had gone Jo giggled.
“I gather you got the third degree from Danielle yesterday.”
Peter laughed.
“Did I pass?”
“With flying colours. Although it is rather disconcerting when you’re daughter gives you the OK to continue going out with a man.”
“She seems to have her head screwed on all right.”
“Don’t be fooled,” replied Jo firmly. “She’s an adolescent. One day she acts like a twenty year old and the next like a twelve year old.”